Three years ago, Seon Ricks ditched her corporate job in Atlanta to pursue a passion.

In high school years ago, she’d created an upbeat, pear-shaped character named “Shouty.” The comic strip ran in her school newspaper.

As an adult, she often fantasized about turning “Shouty” into a rhyming picture book for children; the fantasies were acute during times she felt underappreciated or found herself working 15-hour days.

Shouty the book was Ricks’ Plan B. She’d set her own schedule, she thought, be her own boss, use her unique set of talents. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Well, maybe it was. Plan B didn’t go exactly as planned.

“I thought six to nine months, and I’ll be done,” said Ricks, now 36, who spent more than twice as long as she originally planned penning the first Shouty book.

The single Atlanta woman lived on rice and beans, depleted her savings and got a loan from a family member to stay afloat.

“I always had a good work ethic,” she recalled of that period in her life. “And something changed. I found that there was more fear. And that fear can be overwhelming. ... Sometimes, I would just sit for days, not getting anywhere.”

Switching careers, starting a business, going for that backup plan can be exciting and rewarding. But making a dramatic career change can also open the door to all sorts of challenges — grueling hours, physical and emotional exhaustion, and for those starting new businesses, little financial security.

The allure to try something new, to do more than just punch a time clock doesn’t wane.

With unemployment in Georgia hovering around 10 percent, everyone seems to have a Plan B. And on rough days at the office, Plan B can seem just perfect: become a teacher, open a café, write the great American novel, and so on.

More Americans have started their own businesses — 565,000 on average every month in 2010 — according to the Kauffman Foundation, which tracks statistics on entrepreneurship in the United States. That’s more than any other stretch during the past 15 years.

So how many of these startups will make it? A 2010 Kauffman study on entrepreneurship found discouraging odds: Of the new businesses created between the years of 1977 and 2001, just 49 percent survived at least five years. A 50-50 chance. Many will take those odds and a chance at fulfilling their dreams.

Hallie Crawford, an Atlanta-based career coaching expert, said a layoff is often “the kick in the pants” for pursuing a new career dream. “But I say, let’s evaluate this,” said Crawford. “Do you have money saved? Do you have a plan? Have you done your research? If so, then maybe yes. But are you cash-strapped? If so, get your job search right away and pursue your dream on the side.”

Sleep on it

Tamara Clarke of Marietta was sure she was onto something when she stitched together a hair cap to protect her long locks. Clarke was confident her cap would be a hit with other African-American women seeking to prevent tangles. She created a business plan for a sleep cap but never had enough time to get it going.

Then in late 2009, Clarke got laid off as a system analyst for a Fortune 500 company. She had a decision to make: go all out to secure a new job, or devote her energy to bringing the sleep cap to market.

“I was about to turn 30 in six months, and I thought to myself, ‘I am tired of waiting and saying this is something I want to do,’” said Clarke. “I decided to go for it.”

With the support of her husband, Walter, a schoolteacher, she invested $14,000 in the idea. Called the Ecosoq (pronounced “eco sock”) Natural Sleep Cap, the soft, cotton sateen hair protector hit the market at the beginning of this year and is available at 10 metro Atlanta beauty salons. So far, she has sold about 350 caps. She’s still in the red but hopeful she’s gaining momentum.

One of the hardest things was coming to terms with the steep learning curve and realizing she was no longer the expert in her field.

“I was talking to an Atlanta area packager about getting a package for my product, and once they found out I was a startup, they basically stopped returning my phone calls,” said Clarke.

Still, one moment filled her with pride and keeps her motivated. “Getting the patent and seeing that gold seal and knowing that idea was yours,” she said. “It was so gratifying.”

Cook up a plan

For Matt Hinton, a former religion professor turned stellar burrito maker, Plan B was never about chasing a dream. It was just a matter of dollars and cents. He enjoyed his job as an adjunct professor of religion at Morehouse College. Then one day his contract wasn’t renewed because of budget cuts. He had a couple of other teaching positions lined up, but they didn't provide enough income to support his family of four. So in early 2009, Hinton decided to re-create the late Tortilla’s burritos, a grungy fixture on Ponce de Leon Avenue in Midtown.

With no restaurant experience but an affinity for cooking and experimenting with recipes, Hinton started small. But even that was rocky. He emailed a few dozen friends, offering to make deliveries once a week.

“It’s one thing to make food, it’s another to make massive portions of it. ... How much cheese, how much beans is that? ... The first time I told people I would be there between 4 and 6, and I was showing up at the last 10 houses at 8 p.m. I felt so terrible about being late, I just gave them the burritos. ... Over the course of the year, I figured things out, waking up early Monday morning and running to the farmer’s market, prepping most of the day while the beans are cooking five to six hours. ... Nothing about that was fun or easy.”

But Bell Street Burritos quickly gained a loyal following and secured a spot inside the Sweet Auburn Curb Market.

Local food critics celebrated Hinton’s burritos (yes, it’s been said eating them is a religious experience) and USA Today recently named Bell Street one of the “10 Great Places to Bite into a Big Burrito.”

But it’s still a grind, and not the easiest transition for a former religion professor. The financial side of the job — securing permits, payroll taxes, endless paperwork — is mind-numbing. The manual side of the job can also be taxing. He simmers pinto beans in a kettle 50 pounds at a time.

Going from divinity scholar to burrito extraordinaire also made him question his identity.

“Burritos are good, but my whole life was built up to be a religion professor,” he said.

Even with his success, he’s not sure he’ll stick with it.

“Sure I miss it,” he said about teaching religion. “And there are things about it I don’t miss. The restaurant ship has sailed and I will carry that into fruition. If all goes well, I will open a shop in Midtown. ... And there will come a day when I won’t be manning the shops all the time, and maybe I will teach two or three classes a week.”

Test the waters

Crawford, the career coach, urges those contemplating switching directions to test the waters before making the leap, and, if possible, to keep a day job while trying it out.

For example, before going to nursing school, volunteer on the weekends at a hospital.

For those wanting to open a business, start small, at home. Before you open the cupcake shop, start baking big batches of the sweet treats at home.

Oftentimes, Crawford said, it’s not the job itself but the boss or office culture someone looking for a change doesn’t like. And, she said, it’s important to take the rose-colored glasses off and examine what your dream job would be like day after day.

“A lot of people who are thinking about teaching,” said Crawford, “aren’t really thinking about the teaching. They are thinking: I want my summers off.”

Crawford also recommends people try to find jobs where they can translate their skills. Crawford had a client who didn’t like her PR gig and was interested in health care. So her client volunteered with local health care nonprofits and then eventually got a job in PR at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Last year, after Ricks’ first book, “Life of Shouty: Good Habits,” was completed (and published by a publishing house she and a family member created), she decided it was time to get a regular, paying job.

She got one being an SAT tutor and more recently doing Web development for a local nonprofit.

Shouty is now her side gig. And that seems its perfect place, according to Ricks.

She’s getting a steady paycheck, able to pay back her loan to a family member, and to continue to work on Shouty in her free time. Every so often, she reads her Shouty book at area elementary schools.

Her second book, “Life of Shouty: Food & Fitness,” in which Shouty wants to be a couch potato but eventually realizes he needs to get up and get moving, is due in October.

“While it was not exactly how I imagined it,” she said, “creating something and giving it life is very fulfilling.”